It's Just A Hobby
by Tinkering
Summary: Ever felt jealous of a certain Nimbus 2000 or Firebolt?ONE-SHOT.Drabble?Maybe. How Severus feels about himself and Harry's relationship.


**_A/N: Hey people. I know i've been lazy lately but i'm suffering from writers block...I don't have Nella ready yet and it's supposed to be posted next. Smashed is supposed to be after that but i can't manage more than a sentence everytime i open it. Incubus is the only thing flowing but i can't keep updating just that. Soullessness is in a bit of a rut too, sorry. Tricks...I'm trying people i really am...but like i said, writer's block._**

**_So here is a little one shot i did for SilverSnitch. Let it tide you over for a few days and hopefully I'll have something ready by then. I don't think it goes above R. So i should be able to scrape this in on Fanfic. Hope you enjoy it, feel free to review and just...wait for me huh? I'll get back to writing when i can._**

**_Tinkering_**

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**It's Just A Hobby**

It shouldn't be allowed. He should need a **_license_** to do that.

To tuck his feet so tight around the bottom like he wants to mold it into a part of him, to hold it so tight between his knees it can only move with his body's wish, to clamp it between his thighs as he would a lover and not let go until his goal was achieved.

On his broom, his goal is to catch the golden snitch. On me it is to either drive me crazy with need or drive me crazy, period. Sometimes he manages both. It's not fair for him to be on top, to me, because then I'm not his lover, I'm his broom. And the way he rides me, it's all about reaching his goal.

He moulds himself to his broom like a second skin and does the same to me. His slightest movement is the urging to go faster, slower, deeper, harder. Tight between his knees my legs are held, and between his thighs I'm imprisoned. And then like his faithful broom I'm used, _used_, because he's become so perfect at it. Working his tool to achieve just what he wants.

Slow and shallow, it's like when he first mounts his broom when he mounts me. Then he has to do a few moves around the pitch to reacquaint himself with me, his broom. Then it's deeper. Beginning his search for the elusive snitch, he pushes onto me, impaling himself because that is what it takes. Slow is forgotten as he gains a rhythm, and the new need is…'_Faster!_' I'm actually happy at this because at least I can still be deep in him, enjoying my part. Until, of course, the 'snitch', that place that makes him keen that soul-wrenching moan that undoes me.

He has learnt now that the game isn't all about winning, so it doesn't need to be a fast completion. He has learnt it is about enjoyment. I've created a monster.

When the 'snitch' is spotted, then I'm his broom again, no longer molded into him, as a part of him. He lifts himself ever so slightly off me. Deep is gone. Slow is back. Fast is gone. Hard drops in for snacks and refreshment. This part, this is the beginning of the chase. Every shift after this is solely to bring him closer but he's being careful because, well when he shifts the snitch shifts too. He can't lose it, but then again he doesn't want to get it too fast.

Who in Hades is the imbecile who taught him patience? They need to be shot. I'm choking down groans and promising to work out how I can kill myself.

This part of the game goes on until we're both helplessly caught in the clutches of the game, we couldn't stop now if we wanted to. When we're at this point we're going so slow we've almost stopped. Just hanging onto the edge. And suddenly the snitch is too close and we, he and the broom, have to make the most of the last of the match. Slow, deep and hard. Building back up to the climax where back at Hogwarts his house would be getting ready to celebrate because their Seeker was speeding towards where the tiny golden ball was. Slow wears away with his control and suddenly it's all faster, faster, _**faster**_, the movements of his hips no longer disguised, the infinitesimal pause as his hand reaches out around the golden ball andexcitement peaks then…

Is someone channeling Lee Jordan? I swear I can hear his voice…"Harry Potter has caught the golden snitch! Gryffindor wins!"

"Severussss…" I prefer this acknowledgement of the game's end better.

"Harry!" My groans long ceased to be choked down and this is my final surrender to his skill. In the end, for that one minute when we are both climaxing, we are not two we are one. And his broom could not touch the bond we have there.

Back to reality, I'm Severus again and he loves me. I'm not a broom. And I love him too. Because he's not a Seeker.

It's just a hobby.

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A/N2: Drabble? Ramblings perhaps? I don't know...but i wrote it.


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